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It was Saturday night, and I was in the same sweats and T-shirt I’d worn since Thursday evening when I saw Axel being live-streamed on draft night. I thought I was doing okay until I saw him on the screen, and it sent me into a tailspin. Swiping at my sensitive nose with a tissue, I couldn’t take my eyes off my computer screen.
“Natalie? No. No. No.” Lizzie burst into the room, probably acknowledging the train wreck I was, and rushed over to my bed. “You’re seriously not going to do this.” She reached for my laptop, and I pulled it out of her reach. They were showing a mini-documentary on Axel and his training footage leading up to the NFL draft.
“But I have to see this. He trained really hard to make it to the pros.”
“I can’t leave you alone for thirty minutes before you’re doing something detrimental to your life.” Lizzie had made it her duty to watch over me. Especially when she’d seen that Axel texted me yesterday. Then called me three times. Each time, she had been there to snatch my phone away and remind me that he’d dismissed me like a subpar dinner.
“It’s not detrimental. It’s a well-done sports piece.”
Lizzie’s almond-shaped eyes narrowed as she shook her head. “You have to stop this. You need to take a shower and get out of this room.”
I knew she was right. My hair was ratty, and I’d managed to spill coffee down the front of my T-shirt yesterday, which I didn’t bother changing. I didn’t have the energy. “I will later.”
My phone chimed, and my heart surged at seeing it was Axel.
Axel:I’m sorry. I was an asshole. Please talk to me. I miss you.
My heart tingled and I clicked in the text box.
Me:I mi—
Before I could finish the text, Lizzie yanked the phone out of my hand. I glanced up at her and scowled. “That was a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
“No. You need a reality check. And do you think anything is too dramatic for me?” Lizzie tilted her head and put a hand on her hip.
“Good point,” I conceded.
“You’ve been moping around for three weeks, and now he wants to talk to you? Don’t do this, Natalie.”
“He was upset because he thought I was getting married.”
“But you tried to explain to him it was a misunderstanding, and he treated you like trash.”
“He was hurt,” I said in his defense.
“Was he?” She shook her head in disappointment. “He sounds like a manipulative, toxic person. I mean, seriously, he hit your car and made you believe it was your fault. And I saw what he did to Trey Lomas’s face that night of the party. He’s lucky Trey didn’t press charges.”
Wait. What?I peered at Lizzie in question. “How did you know what happened to Trey?”
“Um, I kind of ran into him that night.” Lizzie’s cheeks tinted pink. This sounded very strange since she wasn’t at the party. And where would she have seen him?
“But you weren’t there when it happened. Trey kind of provoked him.”
“You don’t know what Trey’s dealing with.” She clamped her mouth shut as if she’d said too much. “Anyway.” She swiped her hand in the air, changing the subject. “That’s neither here nor there.”
I folded my hands together. “Axel’s not a bad person.”
Still holding my phone as if she didn’t trust me, Lizzie shrugged her shoulder and pointed to my laptop. “Why don’t you do a search of Axel Thomas and see exactly how much he missed you in Vegas on draft night?”
Dread settled over me, yet my curiosity got the better of me as I minimized the documentary and clicked on the search engine.Curiosity killed the cat. The words played in my head as I did a search and saw the damning images I knew would break my heart. Would? I could hear the crack as if I were standing on thin ice over a lake, and it spread and spread until I gripped my chest. There were several pictures of him with two girls climbing all over him at a club. Then there was another picture of him leaving the club with another woman. The pieces of my broken heart were bleeding out, and I closed my laptop and rubbed my face in defeat.
“Now, will you believe me when I say Axel is toxic for you?”
Fighting back another round of tears, I nodded.
And decided, for real this time, I needed to move on with my life.
But it still hurt like hell.
